


What greater gift than the love of a cat

by OpheliaTheMoth



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cat School (The Witcher), Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Witchers Being Witchers I Guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 13:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19831291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaTheMoth/pseuds/OpheliaTheMoth
Summary: In which Lambert is grieving for his lover and friend.





	What greater gift than the love of a cat

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, all mistakes are my own.

I have a rendezvous with Death  
At some disputed barricade,  
When Spring comes back with rustling shade  
And apple-blossoms fill the air—  
I have a rendezvous with Death  
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.  
  
It may be he shall take my hand  
And lead me into his dark land  
And close my eyes and quench my breath—  
It may be I shall pass him still.  
I have a rendezvous with Death  
On some scarred slope of battered hill,  
When Spring comes round again this year  
And the first meadow-flowers appear.  
  
Gods know 'twere better to be deep  
Pillowed in silk and scented down,  
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,  
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,  
Where hushed awakenings are dear...  
But I've a rendezvous with Death  
At midnight in some flaming town,  
When Spring trips north again this year,  
And I to my pledged word am true,  
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

_\- Alan Seeger, „I have a rendezvous with Death“_

___

Empty.

The man cursed silently and lifted his head as he awoke. Of course the bottle was empty. As was the shabby room he'd rented in the local tavern, for that matter.

No bottles of strong spirit to join the first, not even a jar of water to soothe his dry throat. Small particles that looked like dust were floating through the ray of moonlight, breaking through the glass of a single window.

Lambert fell back onto the mattress and closed his eyes. As he did, a single wet drop fled onto the pillow.

Witchers don't cry, he heard the townsfolk whisper in his mind. Emotionless monsters, them witchers. Monsters. Stealing our children with their prying hands, seducing our maidens, slaying our men –

In a single motion, Lambert stood up and put on his armor. He shouldered his belongings, neatly packed together in a single bundle, grabbed his swords and quietly went downstairs.

-

_Aiden played absentmindedly with Lambert's wolf-shaped medallion, making the links of the silver chain clink with every move of his slender fingers._

„You know _“, he said, looking up and nuzzling Lambert's beard. "They say cats have nine lives. If I could choose, I'd spend all of them with you."  
_

„ _Yeah, right“, the wolf snorted and wrapped his arm around the other man's waist, pulling him closer while they watched the night sky being dusted with stars._

„ _I'm serious.“ The cat's rosy lips moved and left a damp spot on his skin._

_He liked to snuggle against Lambert and listen to his calming heartbeat when they settled in for the night, and Lambert, while not outright saying he liked having Aiden in his arms, never denied him any physical contact._

_Perhaps it was Aiden's godsdamned openness and vulnerability that made his heart skip a beat whenever they were close._

_Still, he wasn't used to honest affection. His father had seen to that._

„ _What makes you think I'm so special?“, he asked._

„ _What makes you think you're not?“_

_Aiden rolled over and straddled his the other man, grabbed Lambert's wrists and pinned them down above his head. With a cheeky grin he bent down and whispered into Lambert's ear, his ginger curls tickling his nose._

„ _Tell you what.“ With the tip of his tongue, the cat witcher licked the salt off Lambert's skin. He was rewarded with a deep groan. „You let me take those pants off, and I'll show you how dear you are to me.“_

_Lambert huffed._

_„You really think you need to flatter me for sex? Thought you knew me better by now.“_

_Aiden frowned._

„ _No. I want to cherish you, is all. I want to show you my complete...“ A kiss against Lambert's jawline. „And utter...“ Another onto his neck. „Adoration.“_

_Aiden sucked and licked the tender flesh, knowing that his tongue was, well, very convincing._

_The cat took his time in removing both his own and the wolf's armor, leaving red marks on his lover's skin with his fangs and claws._

_What followed was a swirl of heat and quick movement, harsh breaths and moans as Aiden took Lambert in, their bodies glowing while they held onto each other for dear life. And as Lambert rolled them both over,  
_

_grabbed Aiden's hips and driving into him – deeper, still deeper – there was a warmth creeping up his spine._

_It was unlike the fiery blaze of lust he usually felt when they lay together. This was the comforting glow of a hearth, a fireplace you'd share with your beloved._

_There was only one word in Lambert's mind as they looked into eachother's eyes and spilled their very essence – home._

-

A long way from Ellander, the wolf found himself riding through a settlement near the ocean.

Days and nights and days again he'd spent on the road, following the path and visiting many of the places he'd been to with Aiden.

During that time they'd spent together, he got to know the cat in a way he had never thought of before.

Lambert found out about the ways of the cat school, how they traveled in a caravan instead of staying in a fortress.

That made sense to him, Lambert told his friend, since the cats weren't exactly known as being very nice, so naturally they needed to be constantly on the run.

Of course, that was meant to be a joke, but Aiden just looked at him, with eyes that used to be green once, eyes that had seen children die from the grasses' trial or the older witchers' sword.

Not all of them survived the procedure, and those who did were seldom fully unharmed.

Only a few of them were sane, Aiden revealed to him.

Usually they were screaming, scared of shapeless figures only their eyes could see, some wouldn't talk at all. Something inside them had cracked, and their minds had been spoiled by forces the witchers did not want to meddle with.

It was easier to get rid of the small bodies than to bring back their sanity.

It was said that out of ten children, only three survived the trial of the grasses. Those taken in by the cat school were far more likely to die.

Those were the things Lambert thought about as he led his horse through town, across the market place, ignoring the people spitting out in front of him.

-

_After their first embrace – or, as Lambert called it „a really good fuck“ – the wolf let his fingers map out the scars on Aiden's light skin. He could tell what'd caused them,_

_but asked the other man about each one, just to hear him speak._

_When it came to a particular nasty scar, he watched the cat frown._

„ _Arachnomorph, ugh.“ Aiden cursed. „I fucking hate them. No creature has the right to be so crawly!“_

_Lambert laughed and said he couldn't agree more._

_It had been their last night, when Aiden told him he loved the sea._

_It had also been that night, Lambert recalled, that Aiden told him he had a soft spot for poetry._

_The sweat on their bodies had cooled and they were curled up and close, a blanket keeping them from the breeze. Despite the summer heat seeping into them during the day, it was still cold after nightfall._

„ _Whenever I'm near you“, Aiden whispered. „I'm reminded of a special verse. I heard it once on Saovine, in a small town in Nazair. The girls sang it while they danced around the bonfire. It was lovely.“ Lambert could hear him smile. „Wanna hear it?“_

_Lambert nodded, then realized Aiden couldn't possibly see him, since the cat's back was pressed against his stomach. He breathed in the scent rising up from Aiden's red hair – smoke of a fireplace, salt and earthy sweetness of roots digging into rich soil – and whispered back._

„ _Please.“_

_-_

As he arrived at the cliff where he'd scattered Aiden's ashes, dawn was already creeping up. Plum and raspberry shades poured over the horizon with a certainty and hope that seemed to mock Lambert's pain.

„Know what really pisses me off?“, the witcher found himself talking to the waves. „I never even told you.“ He kicked one of the stones lying at his feet down the cliff an watched it fall into the water.

„You were mine. All those years I've loved you and I never said it. I always thought you knew, somehow, and I...“

Lambert tried swallowing down the lump growing in his throat, but it just wouldn't go away.

„I thought we'd have more time.“

The waves didn't answer. Neither did the rising sun, or the purple and blue skies.

Only the seagulls showed their sympathy and cried with him as his world collapsed again.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a fic swap between diokoxkristof and my humble self.
> 
> Initially we agreed on a 4-5k wordcount, but I got to 2k and every addition  
> felt like a filler, so I tweaked it a bit more and ended up with this.  
> (Maybe I'm just not suited for longer fics?T_T)
> 
> Anyway, I still really enjoyed writing this and I hope, despite it's  
> brevity, that you still enjoyed reading it. <3


End file.
